Forever dans mon coeur
by orangepencils
Summary: He just wanted to make sure that this was not as bad as it seemed. That the media had only made it seem much more dramatic, but when no one answered, he knew that it was bad. France, Haiti, England. No pairings.


**Forever dans mon coeur**

**249**

**I have noticed thanks to someone that I have reached one hundred stories on this site. I thought that this was going to be 100, but apparently, it is 101. Thank you to everyone who has made these milestones possible! Anyways, I also noticed that a few stories mentioning Haiti have come up. Here's my own. Don't ask why I made Haiti a girl. I just feel that Hetalia lacks girls, seriously.**

**Disclaimer: Title means forever in my heart. Yes, more French.**

Forever dans mon coeur

Francis stared at the television screen in shock. He couldn't believe the images that he was seeing. He looked at the devastation as deep hidden emotions surfaced inside of him. Transfixed, he sat down in front of the television and watched as yet another tragedy hit the land of a vivacious young woman he hadn't seen in so many years.

When the initial shock wore off, he found his phone and dialled her number. He just wanted to make sure that this was not as bad as it seemed. That the media had only made it seem much more dramatic, but when no one answered, he knew that it was bad.

He remembered the very first time he had laid eyes on her. Her smile had won his heart and gradually, he had fallen for the vivacious, stubborn young woman.

Francis remembered how her eyes had shone with mirth whenever she would tell him one of her folktales and he remembered the look of disdain that would come across her lovely features when something or someone insulted her.

Haiti was a woman filled with pride who never ceased to work hard for her people despite the weather conditions or anything else. France had admired that in her and that was why he had stayed with her for a while.

But unfortunately, he lost interest over the years and she grew tired of his mannerisms. She couldn't sit idly and do nothing while her people worked hard. She hated the way that France waited for everything to happen and she thirsted for some independence. She needed to be able to do things her own way.

She had approached him with the notion of telling him that perhaps it was time that they look over their current arrangements, but he had told her that it was finished. He was leaving. They were done. And just like that, he had left. She had never forgiven him.

As Francis kept on staring at the television and saw the despair that had come to his beloved Haiti, he couldn't, wouldn't believe that the woman with the fiery personality was done for. She had gone through too much in order to let something like this get to her. She had to rise from the ashes yet again or else he would never forgive himself.

He remained seated and kept on watching the news without really noticing the time go by. The newscasters changed on the screen, but what they were saying didn't change for the better, only the worse. More devastation was discovered and more problems rose from the fallen rubble.

France hadn't heard from her in three days.

France hadn't done anything in three days.

From somewhere deep in his house, he heard a door open and for a brief second, he thought that it was her who had come to visit him, but when the person walked into his living room, he found the last person he expected to see at this point; England.

The man had a frown on his face, but worry in his eyes. Nothing was said between them and yet, they both knew and understood each other. Arthur took a seat next to him and placed a comforting hand on his knee. They remained like that for a few minutes until he finally spoke.

"Je l'ai abandonné. Je l'ai laissé comme morte. Je n'ai rien fait pour la sauver. J'aurais dû me forcer. Si j'avais essayé de convaincre mon supérieur, elle n'aurait pas été laissé toute seule. Arthur, qu'est-ce que j'ai fait?"/ _"I abandoned her. I left her like dead. I didn't do anything to save her. I should have forced myself. If I had tried to convince my boss, she wouldn't have been left alone. Arthur, what have I done?"_ He turned around to face his guest and he could feel the tears swimming in his eyes.

"We've all done daft things in the past. You're neither the first nor the last one who will mess up over something, but you have the power to at least help." Francis listened and took his phone out. Every hour for the past three days, he had tried calling her. He still remembered the last time he had spoken to her. Her only words had been "Toi qui m'as laissé grandir seule, ne me rappelle plus jamais et laisse moi tranquille."/ _"You who left me grow up alone, don't ever call again and let me be."_

The phone rang and France wondered if she would even answer if she was in the state to pick up. He waited and counted the rings. He remembered how a few days ago, the number had seemed foreign to his fingers, but now he knew where every key was and what number to press. On the sixth ring, the line was finally picked up. Francis' insides turned to ice.

"Que veux-tu?"/ _"What do you want?"_ Her voice hadn't changed. She sounded tired and drained, but France still heard that familiar pride in her. He swallowed thickly, searching for words.

"Je… et bien… comment vas-tu?"/ _"I… well… how are you?"_ He finally managed to string together.

"Après touts les désastres que j'ai vécu, celui là ne sera pas ma mort. Si tu penses que c'est ce qui va me faire rendre l'âme, tu te trompes. Je suis plus forte que cela et je survivrais. Même si ça prend plusieurs années, je ne partirais pas sans me battre, tu peux en être certain. Je n'abandonnerais pas mon peuple_."/ "After all the disasters that I've lived through, this isn't the one that will kill me. __If you think that this is what will make me render my soul, you are mistaken. I am stronger than this and I will survive. Even if it takes many years, I won't leave without fighting, you can be sure of that. I won't abandon my people."_ Francis felt comfort wash over him after hearing those words even though the tone had been resentful.

"Je suis content."/ _"I am happy."_ He blurted out. He wasn't happy that she was suffering. He was happy that she was alive and that she would fight for her people.

"Au revoir, France."/ _"Goodbye, France."_ Those were the last words she said before the line went dead, but they had been more words than he had heard from her in many years. France put down the phone and then remembered that he had a guest. He turned around once more and found England waiting for him.

"You can help her out. You can help us make sure that her people get the necessary attention. You don't have to abandon her yet again." Arthur gave him a folder which had a plan for what they could do for Haiti.

France looked into those green eyes and smiled for the first time in three days. England was right. He could provide her with aid. This time, she wouldn't suffer alone. This time, everyone would help her out. This time, there were all in this together for better and for worse and they would conquer.

**OWARI**

**This is for everyone who has perished, everyone who suffers and everyone who has been affected by the disaster. **

**Reviews, no matter how short, even if they are anonymous, mean a lot to me and let me know that my writing brings emotions to you readers out there. I see you, the ones who only favourite, the ones who add me to alert, don't think I don't. Even if it's just an exclamation point, it warms my heart.**

**Started writing: January 16****th**** 2010, 12:55am**

**Finished writing: January 17****th**** 2010, 2:10am**

**Started typing: January 17****th**** 2010, 2:11pm**

**Finished typing: January 17****th**** 2010, 3:44pm**


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